


May Mara Tame Your Wild Heart

by Night_Writer



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-19 07:45:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1461397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Night_Writer/pseuds/Night_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time has come to initiate another member into the Circle. The Dragonborn, Markus, has returned to Jorrvaskr after a successful mission, and is being sworn into the Circle, but there is one that pines for him from across the table. Aela, swift She-Wolf of the Companions, has recognized her love for Markus. She just hopes that he feels the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Underforge

The halls of Jorrvaskr were abuzz with the sounds of light conversation and the smell of fresh venison rotating on the spit above the cooking fire. Aela sat herself down at the table, a tankard of mead clutched loosely in her hand, as she listened in on the conversation around her.

"You should have seen him…"  
"How did he ever defeat…”  
"I think I hear him coming."

And then partial silence fell over the Hall, and all eyes turned towards the front doors as they opened. There, in the doorway, stood Markus. The Nord warrior had certainly made a name for himself amongst the Companions, and if anything, was making a name for himself in Whiterun. Aela glanced up at him, and took in the sight of his wild, brunette locks, the faded scars that ran over the right side of his face, his feral blue eyes; his posture screamed command, and Aela felt her heart jump at the sight of him.

Markus walked over to the corner of the table and took a seat, immediately engaging in conversation with Skjor and Vilkas, and thank Hircine for the dim light and her warrior paint, because she could certainly feel the heat rising up into her cheeks. She stole glances at him from the corner of her eye, admiring him from the short distance between them. If she didn’t know any better, she could honestly believe that this was recognition. But he was not yet a wolf, and therefore, could not smell the love that radiated from her being.  
She cursed herself internally.

"Members of the Circle, please gather outside." Kodlak called, before walking over towards Markus, Skjor and Vilkas. "That means you as well, Markus."

The three men stood and walked past, and Aela composed herself quickly as she, too, joined her Shield-Brothers outside. Aela knew what was about to transpire, and she was excited. Now, he may finally be able to sense her affection towards him. Now, he would finally know that she wanted only him.

The ceremony finished, and Skjor led Markus away from the group, telling him to meet him at the Underforge tonight. Markus nodded his head in agreement before taking his leave back into Jorrvaskr. Skjor approached her.

"Will you offer your blood to him?" It was not so much a question to Aela. Her wolf blood was one of the most potent in the Circle, and of course she would be the one to offer to the newest member of the Circle.  
"Of course, Skjor." She replied with a nod of her head. As she turned to leave, she felt his hand gently land on her shoulder.

"You love him, don’t you." The words hung between them as Aela stood with her back still to Skjor. "I can smell it, Aela. He is the one that your heart yearns for, that your wolf spirit howls for."

Aela turned towards Skjor, golden eyes glistening in the light of the sunset.  
"Of course I do. It has always been the way of wolves to choose their mate for life. You have known the feeling of recognition before, have you not?" Her words were hot as they left her mouth, and Skjor could only nod as his mind wandered to the memory of his deceased mate.  
"Then you know how I feel at this moment. To me, he is my Alpha. He is my soul. After the wolf blood joins with him, he will develop the acute senses that we all have, and he will be able to smell my love himself." Tears shimmered in her eyes, and Skjor gently wiped them away.

"Aela, what you do not yet know, is that Markus fell for you long before your wolf spirit knew it herself. He has said to me that he loved you from the moment he laid eyes on you, back when we met him at Pelagia farm." Aela’s head snapped up, while her eyes locked with Skjor’s.

She felt her heart, pounding in her chest so loudly that she believed that all of Whiterun could hear it. She steadied herself and cleared her throat before glancing towards the skyline.

"It will be dark soon. I’ll meet you in the Underforge." She said as she took the short walk to the secret entrance below the stairs to the Skyforge. Skjor sighed softly, watching her disappear behind the stone wall, followed by the sound of a howl. He made his way over to the entrance and waited for Markus, knowing that the young Nord was on his way.

Markus appeared from around the corner, making his way over towards Skjor.

"Are you prepared, Markus?"  
"Of course, Skjor. I’m ready for your task."

Skjor smiles as he places his hand up against a section of wall, pushing in a small stone that forced the rest of the wall in and down. Markus slowly followed Skjor into the Underforge.

As they made their way towards the lighted area of the forge, Markus heard a guttural growl, as well as the sound of claws upon stone. As his eyes adjusted, he laid them upon another werewolf.

"I would hope that you recognize Aela, even in this form." Skjor began, motioning towards the figure before him. "She’s agreed to be your forbear."

Markus listened intently to Skjor’s speech about becoming one with the beast blood, but his eyes were only focused on Aela, who was trying to avert his fierce gaze.

"Are you prepared to join with the beast blood?" Skjor asked as he stood before Markus and finally broke the Nord’s gaze.  
"I am." Markus replied.  
"Then let it be done." Skjor said as he drew his sword.

Walking to Aela’s left, he took her arm in his hand and cut the flesh of her wrist, allowing her blood to flow freely into the fountain before the wound healed itself. Markus stepped towards the fountain, dipped his hand into her blood, and drank heavily from the thick life force that he held. Within moments, his body changed into that of a werewolf, and he bolted from the Underforge out onto the Whiterun plains.

"I will go after him." Aela telepathically called to Skjor.  
"Very well, Shield-Sister. May Hircine bless your hunt." Skjor replied as he watched her chase after Markus.

As soon as he was sure she was out of earshot, he spoke again.

"May Mara bless your heart, Shield-Sister. If anything, let him be the one to love you as you are."


	2. Gallows Rock

Aela ran, harder and faster, as she chased behind Markus, who was now much larger and more powerful. He stalked a small group of soldiers, then tore them to shreds, enhancing his bloodlust. She would have cursed herself and Skjor, but they had both agreed that Markus would be ready for Hircine's gift. A growl, low and angry, rumbled through her chest as she continued to follow Markus. After a few hours, he finally stopped and, rising onto his hind legs, howled. Shortly after, his body reverted back to its original form. Aela pawed over towards him, sniffing him and listening for his heartbeat. Once she heard its powerful beat, she reverted back into her own original form and sat down on a nearby log.

When Markus came to, not twenty minutes later, Aela walked up to him. He gripped his head, but looked up into her forest-green eyes.

“Good, you're awake. I almost thought that you were lost to us.” Aela began, her hand outstretched towards Markus. He took it, and she helped him to his feet.

“Yours was not an easy transformation, but you're still alive, so congratulations are in order. Skjor and I even have a celebration planned for you.”

“Wait... What happened? I don't remember a thing.” Markus grumbled, shaking his head as he tried to clear away the fog that shrouded his mind.

“You're one with the beast. You're a werewolf now.” Aela ventured, eyes gauging his reaction.

His eyes locked with hers, and she felt her pulse speed up; heart pounding so fiercely in her chest she was afraid that he would hear it. She swallowed the lump in her throat when he looked away, and instead focused on Gallows Rock.

“That's Gallows Rock. Remember our friends, the Silver Hand? They've taken control of that fort, and we're going to clear them out.” Aela huffed, a low growl breaking forth from her throat. Markus hummed in agreement.

The duo, Markus now fully armed again, stalked towards Gallows Rock, eyes glowing in the moonlight as they focused on their prowling prey. Markus knocked an arrow into his bow, took aim at the archer stationed above the entrance, and fired, striking the man right in the throat. The other two guards turned their backs to check on their fallen comrade, allowing Aela and Markus to loose two more arrows into the backs of their heads. Aela chuckled as the two of them made their way from their position into the fort. Noticing the bars that blocked their way, Aela scoffed, placing her hands on her hips.

“The cowards. They must have locked up after Skjor came through.” Markus found the pull chain and yanked it down. The bars lowered instantly, and Markus drew his sword.

The duo made their way through the first hallway, coming upon an open room where a fire was roaring. The two Silver Hand that had been chatting away were immediately taken down by Aela's eagle eye and quick hands; her arrows flew true to their intended targets. Markus caught the grisly stench of death in the air, and made his way over to a closed door. Pulling it open, he couldn't help the sharp intake of breath as he gazed upon another werewolf hanging from a pillar.

“A dead one, isn't it?” She peeked over his shoulder, “Thought so. No one we know, by the smell. Unfortunately, some can't separate themselves from the animal. Go feral. This poor sod could very well have been anyone.” She concluded, moving away from the open door. Markus held his gaze a moment more before he closed the door again.

They continued on, finding more and more of the Silver Hand, and a second, more feral, werewolf held in a jail cell. The poor thing thrashed against the cage bars, growling, roaring to be released from his prison. Markus made to move towards the cage door, but Aela dropped her hand to his shoulder; she shook her head as she gazed at the other werewolf.

“I... Wouldn't recommend opening that door. He's absolutely wild, and will tear you apart.” She whispered, giving the other wolf a sharp, low growl before she turned away.

Markus sighed, but followed the she-wolf as she delved deeper into the old fort. After cutting down another dozen Silver Hand, they came upon a locked door. Aela put her arm out in front of his chest, halting him. Markus stared at her for a moment before she began to speak.

“The Silver Hand do have one thing going for them, aside from being werewolf hunters, that is. There is one among them that they call Krev the Skinner. He's an incredibly dangerous member of the Silver Hand, but he will fall by our blades.” With this, she lowered her arm, and Markus expertly picked the lock.

As the door swung open, Markus charged in and drove his sword into the chest of the first Silver Hand he saw. As blood gushed up and flecked against his face, his eyes were drawn to steel armor, lying on the floor. Skjor, oldest of the trio, lay motionless upon the stone floor of the fort. Markus saw red, and immediately began to transform. As the transformation completed, he drove his powerful canines into the flesh of the next Silver Hand, and then laid eyes upon Krev himself. A bulky, arrogant Nord, Krev charged Markus straight away, slashing his sword this way and that, attempting to strike the dodging werewolf. He was halted suddenly as an arrow was shot right into his thigh, tearing muscle and tendon alike. Aela, eyes glowing gold, stared down the Skinner, who's attention was suddenly drawn back to the towering figure above him. Markus wanted to make his death slow and painful, and began to rake his claws through exposed skin, tearing apart the tight flesh and exposing the muscle and veins below the surface. As Krev began to bleed out, Markus watched, growling in pleasure of his work on Krev's skin, before finally driving his fangs into the Nord's exposed throat. The gurgling lasted for just a few seconds, until Markus twisted his head sharply, snapping Krev's neck in the process. He dropped the lifeless corpse and stood, facing Aela, who was now hunched over Skjor's broken body; the sharp intake of breath alerted him of her tears, and he slowly made his way to her side.

Dropping to all fours, Markus nudged his muzzle against her arm, begging her to relieve her burden. With the swiftness that only a wolf could have, her arms were wrapped around his large, furry neck, and she buried her face into his chest. Skjor had been her friend and mentor ever since she joined the Companions, and for him to be taken away so quickly... Markus could feel his own heart being gripped tightly in his chest as Aela whimpered for her fallen teacher. And as quickly as it came on, her small cries ended, and she wrenched herself away from him. Her eyes steeled as she looked down at Skjor's body, while her words were directed towards Markus.

“Get out of here. I'm going to make sure we got the last of them, and see if there's any information to be gotten from the bodies. You and I have work to do... The Silver Hand will tremble at our sight.” She growled out, her body shaking with rage and a broken heart. As the bloodlust wore off, and his body reverted back to normal, Markus found himself pulling Aela against his chest.

“They will, she-wolf, but let me help your heart heal...” He whispered, pulling back enough to look her in the eyes. “Will you allow me that?” He asked, eyes locked on hers.

Without hesitation, and with every ounce of her heart she could spare, Aela locked her lips firmly to his, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, tears spilling down her cheeks. When she pulled away, Markus merely touched his forehead to hers, taking in her beauty.

“I promise that we will avenge Skjor's death. And I promise that your heart will never be broken again. Together, we will overcome.” He offered, his hands resting firmly on her hips as he spoke.

Not needing words at this point, Aela nodded, averting her gaze to her feet, but making no motion to move away from Markus. With one last peck on her lips, Markus made his way out of a side hallway, and back into the main room that they had first entered from. Running up the stairs and back out into the wild forest, Markus vowed that he would rip out the throats of anyone who threatened to further damage Aela's heart.


	3. Jorrvaskr

The halls of Jorrvaskr were quieter, emptier, now that Skjor was gone. Markus felt the stillness in his bones every time he entered the mead hall, noting the single empty chair at the table, the lack of boisterous, yet serious, laughter; a part of Aela that would never return, even if she did allow him into her heart, she would still guard herself against the possibility of losing him. He sighed, but made his way towards her, taking the chair beside her. She stared into her mug, eyes glazed over, absently running her finger along the rim of the mug. Markus gently nudged her arm with his elbow, and she immediately snapped back to reality.

"Have anything planned? I'm itching to hunt." Markus commented, eyes locked on her own.

"Actually, I do. My sources informed me of a Silver Hand leader camped out in The Rift. I need you to go to Broken Helm Hallow and kill them. And don't leave a single Silver Hand alive." Aela growled out the last part, eyes darting back down towards her cup.

"As you command, she-wolf." Markus whispered, standing from the table and exiting the hall.

Markus knew The Rift well, and exactly where Broken Helm Hallow lay. He mounted his horse and headed south, picking up speed and anger as he approached Broken Helm Hallow. He stopped his horse far enough away from the base of the hill, knowing that it would be killed if seen, and approached under the cover of night. With expert precision, and an anger not unknown to him, he drew his arrow back and fired, making contact with its intended target, who fell to the ground. Not wasting the opportunity that was presented to him, he quickly knocked a second arrow and fired it into the back of the other bandit guard. Moving quickly, he entered the bandit hideout, and made his way into the main chamber, where two bandits were sleeping at the fire. Sneaking, his strongest suit, he took out both bandits quickly and quietly, blood dripping from his dagger, and splattered onto his armor. With feral eyes, he quickly climbed up the incline, and laid eyes upon the sleeping Leader, bloodlust pumping fiercely through his veins. Exchanging his dagger for his sword, Markus quickly drove his sword into the Leader's throat, ripped it violently to the right, and severed their head cleanly from their shoulders.

With a sigh, Markus looked at the corpse before him, still twitching slightly from muscle memory, when a small, tattered journal caught his eye. He took the journal and skimmed through the pages, a devious smile spreading across his lips.

"So... Our friends here hide out at Driftshade Refuge. May have to pay them a visit sometime soon." Markus mumbled to himself, chuckling as he pocketed the journal to share with Aela.

Hours later, he was back in Whiterun, sun shining brightly in the sky, market buzzing with citizens gossiping and purchasing, eying him as he walked through the streets towards Jorrvaskr. Pushing through the large front doors, his eyes quickly found Aela, and he made his way to her side. She looked up at him as he sat on the bench beside her, and a soft sigh escaped her lips.

"I thought you might not come back." She whispered, eyes locked with his.

"Then you think too little of me. Besides, I didn't come back empty handed." He replied, pulling the journal from his armor. Her eyes looked at it and widened with surprise.

"What is it?" She questioned, taking the tattered leather from his hand.

"Read it and find out." He replied, a small chuckle as she flipped through the book.

"The bastards. Hiding out practically under our noses." She cursed, fingers clenched tightly to the bound leather booklet. "But that's besides the point, at the moment. Kodlak has asked to speak with you. My advice is to be honest with him, but don't tell him anything he doesn't need to know." She concluded, nodding her head towards the stairwell.

Markus slowly stood and made his way down the stairs to the living quarters. If Kodlak had asked for him specifically, then he knew about the little hunt that he and Aela were participating in, and Kodlak wouldn't be too thrilled at the idea. As he approached Kodlak's room, Markus felt his pulse quicken just slightly. Stopping to take a quick breath, and to collect his bearings, Markus entered Kodlak's quarters. The aging werewolf looked up at him with stern, yet calm, eyes.

"There you are, Markus. Please, take a seat." He hummed, gesturing to the empty chair across from him. Markus did as he was told, and soon occupied the empty chair.

"You wanted to see me, Kodlak?" Markus asked, curiosity lining his gruff voice.

"Yes, lad. It seems that you've been rather busy as of late. Mind you, it's no business of mine what each of the Companions does in the name of honor, but sneaking around does not befit warriors of your standard. Do you want to tell me the truth?" It was more of a demand rather than a question, and Markus felt himself shrink in his seat.

"Aela and I work to avenge Skjor..." Markus whispered, shifting his gaze away from Kodlak.

"So I've heard. My heart, too, weeps for the loss of Skjor, but surely you realize that all of your efforts thus far will come around full circle." Kodlak admonished, crossing his arms across his chest, staring Markus down.

"I'm sorry, Kodlak..." Markus pitched, slowly gazing back up into Kodlak's eyes; they were softer now.

"I understand, lad. You've only done as you've been told, and to help ease the pain in your heart. But, I have a more... Personal matter I was hoping you could help me with. Do you know how the Companions became werewolves?" Kodlak asked, arching an eyebrow at Markus.

"It was a gift from Hircine, wasn't it?" Markus questioned, a slight shrug to his shoulders as he looked back at Kodlak.

"For some, yes. But the curse actually came from the witches of the Glenmoril Coven. Powerful, ancient magic that has cursed our guild for years. I do not wish to be entrapped in Hircine's hunting grounds. I want to spend my afterlife in Sovngarde, feasting with Ysgramor and all of Tamriel's great warriors. I want you to seek out the Coven and end their accursed magic." Kodlak concluded, his hands back at his sides.

"Return with their heads, and we can continue from there." Markus took his leave, and headed back upstairs to the main hall.

"I regret that this may be the last time that we speak, Markus. Take care of yourself." Kodlak whispered, a heavy burden resting on his heart.

As Markus made his way upstairs, he caught Aela watching him, and nodded his head towards the twin doors leading to the training grounds. She followed him wordlessly, and as soon as they were out of sight, Markus wrapped her in his arms.

"What did he say?" Aela asked, returning his hug.

"He wishes to be cured, and is sending me to find the Glenmoril Coven. Apparently they're the cause of the beast blood, and the only way for him to be cured is to get his hands on one of their heads." Markus mumbled, his head buried in her neck.

"Then you need to go. Now. Don't leave the old man waiting." Aela reprimanded, pulling herself back from his chest. Markus held tighter.

"That's not all." She stopped and listened, "As I was leaving, I heard him say that this may be the last time that we speak. Aela... He can feel that he's going to die soon. I... I just can't leave." Markus whispered, tears burning his eyes.

"Markus..." She sighed, reaching up to wipe the tears away, "Kodlak has lived a long, long life. He has seen friends die and join the hunting grounds, and has seen others go to Sovngarde. If he knows that he will die soon, the best thing that you can do is to let him go." Aela concluded, kissing Markus' lips.

Markus looked deeply into her eyes and nodded his head. He understood, of course, that perhaps it was time for Kodlak to go, and he also understood that he needed to fulfill that final request. To help Kodlak cure himself of his beast blood. He sighed, pecked Aela's lips once more, and headed towards the main gate. He'd hoped to say goodbye to Kodlak, but wanted to let him feel as if Markus hadn't heard his final statement of their conversation.

With a heavy heart, Markus rode out to the Rift, never seeing the group of Silver Hand that rounded the corner and made their way through the main gate. Never being able to help the Companions drive them out. Never there to help protect Kodlak, even if he had come to terms with his impending death. Markus felt the lump in his throat as he came upon the cave entrance of the Coven. Steeling his heart against further emotions, he entered the cave and began his quick work of cleaning the witches presence.


	4. Before the Ancient Flame

With the Coven cleared out, and all five of their heads strapped securely to his horse's saddle, Markus made his way back to Whiterun, feeling the heavy burden as he got closer and closer to the village. Dusk had fallen and his heart tensed painfully in his chest. Making his way through the Plains district, he slowly climbed the stairs to the Wind district, where his eyes caught a crowd gathered around Jorrvaskr. At the sight, he felt the air leave his lungs. Racing forwards, he pushed through the crowd and gazed up at Torvar and Aela, both of whom were standing above the corpses of Silver Hand agents.

"What happened?" He asked as he ran to her side, subconsciously checking her visible skin for any wounds, and thankfully finding none but a few scrapes and bruises.

"The Silver Hand. They attacked while you were away. Go inside, quickly, and check in with the others. Torvar and I will stay here, if only to be sure that none of them get a second chance to reenter the hall." Aela replied, gently nudging him towards the doors of Jorrvaskr.

Markus stared at her for a moment longer before he finally turned to enter Jorrvaskr. Before the door even closed behind him, Markus was immediately verbally assaulted by Vilkas.

"Where have you been?" He growled out, a challenge resting at the back of his throat.

"Doing Kodlak's bidding." Markus replied, feeling the hair on the back of his neck rise.

"I hope it was important, because it means you weren't here to protect him. The old man... Kodlak... Is dead." Vilkas whispered, averting his gaze to the floor.

Markus looked off to Vilkas' side, and gazed down at Kodlak's body, sprawled out on the floor of Jorrvaskr; blood still oozed out from the open wounds in his chest and arms, and Markus could feel the rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach as he gazed at the elder werewolf. Through his internal struggle, Vilkas had reached out and took Markus by the shoulders.

"You and I will take care of this. We will avenge the old man." Vilkas muttered as he gripped the hilt of his sword.

"Yes. You and I hunt together, Shield-Brother." Markus replied as he, too, took hold of his sword.

At this point, Aela came in through the doors, eyes immediately falling to Markus and Vilkas. At the looks in their eyes, she felt her stomach tighten with fear. She reached out and took Markus' arm in her hand, pulling him away from Vilkas, off to the side of the doors.

"What's going on? What are you two going to do?" Aela asked, her eyes scanning his face as he looked deeply into her eyes.

"Vilkas and I hunt together. We're going to find the stolen pieces of Wuuthrad, and avenge Kodlak. I owe him as much, seeing as I was absent when the attack happened." At that, his voice became soft and small, very unlike him. Aela brought her hand to his cheek.

"My love, I have faith in your hunt. I have faith in you. Avenge Kodlak and bring Wuuthrad back to us. I will be waiting for you until you return." She replied, whispering, as she placed a tender kiss upon his lips. As she pulled away, she noticed the small frown on Markus' face.

"What? Think of it as a small parting gift. There's more in store for you when you return." She growled, placing another kiss on his jaw. He hummed in response, holding her close to him, taking in her scent before he had to leave.

"I'll be sure to give the Silver Hand your best, she-wolf." Markus hummed, running his fingers through Aela's hair before stepping away from her.

"You haven't even left yet, and I already feel like a piece of me is missing. Please come back safely." Aela pleaded, hands held tightly against her sides.

"I promise my life to you, my she-wolf." He replied, making his way back to Vilkas.

"You'd better." Aela called, a smirk playing at her lips as she watched him disappear out the front doors.

She quickly moved downstairs and made her way to her room, shutting the door behind her. The hall felt so much emptier than it ever has before. Skjor was gone, Kodlak was gone, and Vilkas pulled Markus from her arms to take revenge upon the Silver Hand. Granted, she would have been the first to take up arms in honor of the Companions, but these were new feelings for her, and she still didn't know how to best process them. With a sigh, she laid down and fell into a dreamless, restless sleep.

Driftshade Refuge. Markus curled his lips in disgust, eyes focused on the formerly abandoned fort. Markus trained his eye on the Silver Hand standing atop the entrance, knocking an arrow into his bow before taking aim, and firing true to the mark; twisting his head to the side, Markus eyed Vilkas killing the second guard. The two werewolves entered the fort, and quickly made their way towards their goal. Markus led the way, firing arrows or slashing away with his sword, felling any Silver Hand who dared stand in his way. Despite the heavy smell of blood in the air, Markus recalled Aela's scent, fueling his aching, tired body forward.

The duo came upon the main chamber, where three Silver Hands and a Chief sat in wait. The three underlings were dispatched quickly, with little effort by Markus or Vilkas, but the Leader proved to be more than a fair fight. Markus swung his sword, hacking and slashing against the brutish Nord before him, while Vilkas tried every which way to get his sword through an opening, but their efforts were proving ineffective. Vilkas, having become fed up with this game of dodging, transformed into his bestial form, pulling the Chief to him, plunging his fangs deeply into his exposed face. Markus watched as Vilkas tore away flesh, muscle, and part of the brute's jaw before dropping the lifeless body down onto the stone floor. As soon as the Nord had been dispatched, Markus walked up to the table and collected the gathered pieces of Wuuthrad, placing them in his pack before heading out of a side exit, Vilkas closely on his heels, claws clicking against the stone. The duo exited the fort just as Vilkas reverted back to his original form.

"I've got the fragments. Just remind me to never get on your bad side." Markus joked as he mounted his horse.

"Plenty of time for that, lad." Vilkas replied with a laugh as the two of them rode off back to Whiterun.

Aela, Farkas, and the rest of the Companions were standing around the Skyforge staring at Kodlak's lifeless form lying across a funeral pyre. As is custom, the Companions were to burn his body at the Skyforge, allowing his body to become part of the fire that forged their steel. She held a torch in her hand, being the one who was going to light the flame, and stared at the pyre. The sound of steel boots on cobblestone brought her out of her mind, and she turned her head to see Markus and Vilkas approaching the group.

"Who will start?" Eorlund asked as he gazed out into the eyes of the gathered group.

"I will." Aela replied, taking a single step forward. Markus wanted to reach out to her, but kept his hands at his sides.

"Before the ancient flame." She began.

"We grieve." was the response that echoed from all voices present.

"At this loss."

"We weep."

"For the fallen."

"We shout."

"And for ourselves."

"We take our leave." Aela stepped forward, torch raised in her hand, and dipped the tip into the coals of the Skyforge. The coals took to the flame quickly, and the pyre was alight within mere moments. Aela turned back to the group, and looked into the eyes of each member of the Circle.

"His spirit is departed... Members of the Circle, let us withdraw to the Underforge to grieve our last... Together." She voiced, walking past the gathered group as she made her way to the Underforge.

At this, Eorlund stepped to Markus, and looked the younger Nord in the eyes.

"Do you have the fragments still? I'll need to prepare them for mounting." He spoke, shadows flickering across his face as the flames burned beside him.

"Yes. Here." Markus replied, handing him the satchel of fragments.

"There is one more piece that Kodlak always kept close to him. I don't think I'm the most qualified person to go digging through his things. Would you mind retrieving it for me?" Eorlund asked as he took hold of the satchel that Markus handed him.

Without a word, Markus turned and walked into Jorrvaskr, down the stairs into the living quarters, and to the end of the hallway into Kodlak's chambers. As he stepped into the old man's room, his eyes instantly glassed over with tears that he now refused to shed. He walked over to the small nightstand next to the bed, and pulled the drawer open, finding both the piece that Eorlund spoke of, and a small tattered journal. Thinking it best to wait for some time to pass, he moved over the journal and picked up the final piece of Wuuthrad before leaving the room, and heading back upstairs and outside to the Skyforge. Handing the piece to Eorlund, the older man placed his hand upon his shoulder.

"I know how you feel lad. Now go, the others have already gone down to the Underforge." He voiced, nodding his head towards the small incline that lead up to the Skyforge. Markus tried a smile, and walked down the hill to the Underforge. Inside, Aela and Vilkas were arguing about Kodlak's beast blood.

"The old man wanted to be clean, and he never got that." Vilkas roared, daring Aela to challenge him.

"You're right. It's what the old man wanted, and we failed to give it to him." Aela conceded, shifting her gaze over to Markus as he walked towards them.

"Let Ysgramor show you the way to his tomb." Came Eorlund's voice as he walked towards the group.

"Is that?" Farkas asked as he gazed upon the ax in Eorlund's hands.

"It is. Wuuthrad, restored to its former glory. It will lead you to Ysgramor's tomb, and more importantly, to Kodlak." He replied. "And I think Markus here should be the one to wield it." He concluded, handing the massive weapon over to Markus, who took it in shaking hands.

"I can think of no one better." Aela commented, arms crossed over her chest.

"Do you still have the witches head?" Vilkas asked.

"I do. Let's go and cleanse Kodlak's spirit, and send him properly to Sovngarde." Markus replied as he turned towards the Circle, Wuuthrad gripped tightly in his hands.

"For Kodlak!" The three called in unison, leading the charge from the Underforge and out of the main gate.

The group of four made their way all the way to Winterhold, crossing the small channel in the Sea of Ghosts to reach the Tomb of Ysgramor. Farkas and Vilkas went on ahead, entering the main chamber of the tomb, but Aela stopped Markus outside the door. He looked at her with curious eyes, and in response, she huddled as close to him as possible, wrapping her arms around his body. Markus immediately returned her embrace, burying his face into her hair, kissing the top of her head, and trailing down to her jaw.

"We're going to have to fight our way through the tomb. You can feel it, can't you?" She asked, looking into his eyes.

"Yes. There are many strong presences inside, and I can only assume that they're Ysgramor's strongest generals." Markus replied, tightening his hold on her.

"Absolutely, and I don't want to lose you. Stay at my side, and we'll fight our way to Kodlak together." She pleaded, hands pressed firmly to his chest as she looked into his eyes. His only response was a tender kiss before he pulled her through the doors to the tomb.


	5. The Tomb of Ysgramor

In the center of the room, a massive statue had been erected in Ysgramor's likeness, towering over the foursome, arms stretched in front of him.

“Markus, place Wuuthrad in Ysgramor's hands. It should open the way to the tomb.” Aela commented as she pointed towards the clasped hands.

Markus nodded his head, gently fixing the massive ax into the statue's hands. Sure enough, just as Aela had said, a panel of stone shifted and lowered into the ground, revealing a tunnel that delved deeper into the tomb. The group made their way further in, and at the first chamber, were met with the first wave of resistance. Markus, having reclaimed Wuuthrad before making the descent, swung the massive ax down onto the skull of the first phantom, while Farkas and Vilkas drove their blades into the chests of the others. Aela, bow drawn, kept herself back from the group, arrow knocked and ready to be fired. They continued on, coming to a room that had become slightly flooded over the years; water coming up to their calves. Five phantoms came forth from the tombs, challenging the four Companions. Markus, Farkas and Vilkas would never stand down from a challenge, and so engaged their deceased predecessors. As it turned out, having three phantoms engage with swords, and two more engage with bows, turned out to be harder than it looked. Aela was able to 'kill' the two archers, while the trio of swordsman fought against the remaining three generals.

Markus swung Wuuthrad from shoulder to shoulder, hacking into the phantom Companion's form, as he raised the ax above his head for the final blow, the phantom swung his battle ax into Markus' chest plate, knocking the wind out of him and forcing him to his knees. Aela felt her heart racing in her chest as she quickly knocked another arrow into her bow, drew the string back, and fired as the phantom was preparing to strike Markus. Only after the arrow reached its mark, and the phantom fell, did Aela allow herself to breathe once again. She forced her legs to move, and was soon at Markus' side, helping him back to his feet.

“Are you all right?” She asked, leaning his body against her own.

“I'll be... Fine...” He wheezed, placing his hand against the dent in his chest plate.

It took him just a few minutes to finally catch his breath again, and as the party made their way to the next hallway, they stopped as they laid eyes upon the massive spiderweb that completely covered the doorway. Aela lit the web ablaze with her torch, and a small swarm of Frostbite spiders crawled out of the entrance; they were quickly disposed of, and the group was off once more.

Two more hordes of phantoms later, the group finally came to Ysgramor's tomb, where they could see Kodlak's phantasmal form standing around a flaming pedestal. They walked over to him, and were greeted with a smile.

“Greetings to you Markus, Aela, Farkas and Vilkas.”

“Kodlak... Is it really you?” Vilkas asked, eyes wide as he gazed upon his Harbinger.

“Aye lad. It's me.” Kodlak replied with a smile. The four Companions felt their hearts clench in their chests as they gazed upon their deceased leader.

“Kodlak, I still have a witches' head with me. Will we be able to use it to cleanse your spirit?” Markus asked, pulling the severed head from his pack.

“Yes. Toss the head into the flame, and it should pull the beast from my spirit.” Kodlak answered, taking a step back from the flame.

Markus reciprocated, tossing the witches' head into the flame, sending sparks into the air around them; Kodlak fell forward, the beast being drawn from his spirit, soon howling before them. The four Companions quickly drew their blades, taking on Kodlak's beast as it attacked them with a speed they rivaled with their own. The confrontation was only a few minutes, but it had felt like an hour before they had finally slain the phantom beast, earning Kodlak's praise in response to their deed.

“My thanks to the four of you. And with my last act as Harbinger, I now pass the title down to you, Markus. May you continue to lead the Companions to further glory.” Kodlak called as his spirit faded to Sovngarde.

Markus felt three pairs of eyes instantly upon him as Kodlak disappeared. He turned around and faced his Shield-Siblings with a small, sheepish smile.

“Well, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't heard it myself.” Vilkas commented, shifting from one foot to the other.

“But still, I trust the old man's judgment. I'm sure Markus will be a fine Harbinger.” Aela retorted, arms crossed over her chest.

“I never said he wouldn't, Huntress, I'm just surprised is all.” Vilkas countered, trying to avert the she-wolf's rage.

“Pay them no mind, Markus. They'll cool off in a few minutes.” Farkas mumbled as he stood next to Markus, watching his brother attempt to break Aela's fierce gaze.

“Why don't we head back to Jorrvaskr?” Markus called out, walking over and gently taking Aela's arm in his hand.

“Markus... This is Ysgramor's tomb. We may never get this chance again, and I'd like to commune a little before we go back. You can go on ahead, though; we'll meet you back when we're ready.” Aela whispered, gently tracing his cheek with her fingertips.

He sighed, but gently kissed her forehead before heading up the spiral staircase, up a second staircase down the side hallway, and out the main entrance. Crossing the channel in the Sea of Ghosts, he trudged back up the mountainside into Winterhold, stopping at the Frozen Hearth for a quick drink before he set off once again for Whiterun, and by extension, Jorrvaskr; there was much to tell everyone.

 

As usual, when he returned, the hall was blazing with energy and revelry; mugs filled with mead, food spread across the table, and of course, a small scrap breaking out between Athis and Njada. Markus just shook his head and continued downstairs to the living quarters; best to let those two figure out their issue without interfering. Striding down the hallway, he paused at the door to Kodlak's... No... His room, eyes scanning over everything that had been left exactly as he last saw it. Had it really been three days already? Markus felt like he had been punched in the gut just thinking about his absence during the attack, and he wished with all that he was to just go back and fix it. But even with all of the wishing in the world, he couldn't change the fact that Kodlak was dead, and that he had accepted his death before being attacked by the Silver Hand. The silence that surrounded him was deafening, and as he spun to leave the room, he came eye-to-eye with Aela. She took in the pained expression on his face and felt her own heart shudder in distress; her arms wrapped gently around his back as they stood in the middle of the room, letting the comfort of their company fill them.

“Breathe my love. Don't hold it all in. A wise Harbinger once told me, 'Let me help your heart heal'. Do you remember?” She asked, looking up into his eyes.

He remembered. Of course he remembered the words he once spoke to her, as the image of Skjor's body flashed into his memory. He gently pulled her closer to him, trying to keep her as close to him as possible, and she buried herself in his embrace.

“Come to bed. You need your rest now.” Aela whispered into his ear, tracing her finger under his chin. He growled in response, eyes locking with hers as he gently took hold of her waist. “And you need not fear... I'm not going to leave you.” She concluded as the two of them slowly walked into the adjacent bedroom, which Markus would only call his for a month before purchasing Breezehome.

He wrapped his arms securely around her waist as she climbed in next to him, and with a sigh of content, Markus allowed himself the sleep that his body so desperately wanted.


	6. It's Called Marriage, Dear

Breezehome was a small home, but it fit them perfectly. Markus stood in the main room, looking around the space that was now his home, and he sighed in content. Of course, it wasn't complete yet; there were furnishings to purchase, and he wanted his she-wolf's input on decorations. He left the small house, securing the door behind him, and made he was back to Jorrvaskr too meet Aela, who was standing at the base of the staircase. She smiled at his approach, taking his arm in hers as they continued up to Dragonsreach.

"So? Was it worth the investment?" Aela asked, eyes glistening with curiosity.

"We can make it work, she-wolf." He replied with a smile, gently pecking her cheek as they reached the top of the stairs.

Walking into Dragonsreach always made him feel smaller than he actually was, seeing as he rarely had a reason to have an audience with Jarl Balgruuf. The new couple approached Proventus, wishing to only speak with the Jarl's Steward, though not averting Irileth's harsh gaze; they had been lucky, as Jarl Balgruuf was currently speaking with some noble or another. Proventus saw the couple walking towards him on the stairwell, and moved to meet them at the bottom.

"Ah, Dragonborn, welcome back to Dragonsreach." Proventus greeted, taking Markus' hand in a firm handshake.

"Proventus, if I may, we'd like to make purchases for Breezehome." Markus stated, holding Aela just a tad closer to him.

"Of course, what would you like to purchase?" Proventus asked, looking between Markus and Aela, a smile on his face.

"Furnishings for the living room, kitchen, and master bedroom, and perhaps a chair and cupboard in the loft at the top of the stairs. Oh, and a nice table for the small dining area if I may request." Markus listed off, thinking of every room in the small home that needed furniture.

"And, if possible, a bedroom for a child." Aela voiced, scooting closer to Markus with a small smile on her face.

"Absolutely. Is there anything else I can do for you, my Thane?" Proventus asked with a smile.

"No, that's quite all right Proventus. The furnishing are more than plenty, and I believe this will be more than sufficient to cover the costs." Markus replied, handing the older man a coin purse with just about 1,900 septims.

"As you wish. The furnishings will be in place by the end of the day. Please enjoy yourselves until then." Proventus explained with a curt bow.

"Thank you, Proventus." Markus replied, turning to head out the door and back to the streets of Whiterun.

As the couple closed the door behind them, Markus immediately fixed his gaze upon Aela, who blushed a deep shade of crimson as they stood in the midday sun. With a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear, Markus wrapped Aela in his arms, kissing her with all of the love in his heart; she laughed as he pulled away, tears of happiness shining in her eyes. Markus looked deeply into her eyes, a small sigh of content leaving his lips; his eyes closed for a moment, and then reopened as he gazed at her.

"Aela... Will you marry me?" He asked as he looked deeply into her eyes.

"Markus, I would spend my life with no one else. Of course I will marry you." She replied with a small laugh. Markus could only hold her closer to him.

"We'll leave for Riften immediately." He exclaimed, gently taking her hand in his.

\----------------------

Stepping through the doors of the Temple of Mara, Markus quickly sought out one of the priests, and his eyes caught Maramal standing at the podium in the center of the main room. Taking Aela's hand in his own, Markus walked to the podium, and softly addressed Maramal.

"Excuse me." He began, pulling Maramal away from the book he had been reading. "We'd like to be married."

"That's wonderful! We'll prepare the ceremony right away, but request that you come back tomorrow for the reception." Maramal explained, going about details of sending invites to their friends and needing proper time to prepare the main hall for the ceremony.

"Excellent. We'll stay in town for the night then." Markus responded, shaking Maramal's hand before leaving with Aela.

"Markus... I don't like it here. Must we stay the night?" Aela asked, tightening her grip on his hand.

"It's fine, dear. I've made arrangements with the Jarl, Laila Law-Giver. She's agreed to let us stay in her home for the night. It'll be even the tiniest bit safer than staying at the Bee and Barb." Markus explained, trying his best to calm Aela's racing mind.

"I trust you, my love, but I don't trust this city; it's crawling with lies and deceit." Aela growled, eyes darting between citizens and guards alike.

As they walked into Mistveil keep, Laila had them shown to their room for the night; a large room with a queen sized bed, and more than enough space for the duo to be comfortable. Markus stretched out on the bed, easing muscles he hadn't even noticed were tense. Aela refused to relax, though, and Markus tried everything to ease her restless heart.

"Love, if it makes you feel better, I'll stay up and keep watch." He tried, arm wrapped around her waist as he pulled her close to him.

"I couldn't ask you to forgo your own sleep in exchange for my comfort..." Aela sighed, holding his arm in place with her own.

"But I would for you, if it would give you comfort." He replied, kissing her shoulder as he nuzzled against her back. She sighed, but smiled as she turned over to look at him.

"You are far more than I deserve... Far more than any woman would deserve." She began, but Markus cut her off before she could say more.

"Aela, I have loved you since our first meeting, when I knew I had to know you better. I loved you when I joined the Companions, all in the hopes of spending time with you. I loved you when Skjor asked you to be my forbear when I was initiated into the Circle. I loved you, even in your weakest moment after Skjor's death; after Kodlak's death. And I still love you now, and nothing that you could ever ask of me would make me change my mind, She-wolf." He prattled on, eyes never leaving hers.

Aela felt her heart racing in her chest, and couldn't help the blush that spread across her cheeks. With a smile, she kissed him, forcing him to stop talking long enough to distract his mind. When she pulled away, she looked into his eyes with so much love, he could have sworn that this was the side of her that no one had ever gotten to see. He kissed her back, tender and gently, then pulled away.

"Markus, Harbinger of the Companions, Dragonborn of Prophecy, I cannot wait to start this new chapter of our lives... Together." She whispered, looking deeply into his blue eyes.

"Aela, Huntress of the Companions, swift she-wolf, I feel the same." He replied, wrapping his arms tighter around her waist.

"Sleep, my love, but let your beast blood keep watch for the night." She mumbled, and Markus obliged.

\------------------

The following afternoon, the Companions, as well as Lydia, had gathered at the Temple of Mara to witness Aela and Markus' wedding. It was a rather small ceremony, and was over in a matter of minutes, something that the Circle as a whole was grateful for; too many bodies around too many sensitive noses was something that just wasn't going to end well. The entire group made their way back to Whiterun together, joking and laughing for the entirety of the journey. Markus and Aela, however, were in their own world together, hands clasped and eyes closed. As soon as Whiterun was seen among the skyline, the carriage driver alerted them and gradually picked up the pace to a trot; he stopped outside of the Whiterun stables not twenty minutes later.

The Companions walked on ahead, bidding farewell to the couple with promises of food and drink to mark the occasion of their wedding, and the two thanked them for coming, and promised to be out the next night for festivities. As they walked away, Markus moved to the front door of Breezehome and held it open, looking over to a now smiling Aela, who moved towards the entrance and pulled Markus through with her, lips locked with his.

"Well... This is what marriage is." Aela whispered as she tried to catch her breath.

"It would appear so, my love." Markus replied, pulling her closer to him and leading her upstairs to their room.

The lovers, now husband and wife, shared their first real night together in their now fully furnished home; taking extra care as they tested the bed that they were now fast asleep in come dawn. If you had asked any of the guards who were in the vicinity, they would tell you that they heard muffled howling, and that the werewolf tales were true. If you had asked Vilkas, he would tell you that Markus and Aela had had a long first night as husband and wife, and he had hopes for a new Companion to join their ranks in the coming year.


	7. I Do Have a Little Surprise For You

Markus took note as the months seems to pass them by, though work was still being done to help repair Jorrvaskr, and the Companions were still being outfitted with new arms and armor. He was just filling out another round of paperwork to pass to Balgruuf when there was a soft knock on the door to Kodlak's old room. He lifted his head and came eye-to-eye with his she-wolf; a smile spread across his face as he stood to greet her. She moved to him and embraced him in her arms.

“I have something to tell you.” She whispered, looking up into his eyes.

“What's wrong my love? Are you hurt? Ill?” He asked, pulling back to look his love over.

“No, no. Nothing like that. It's much better.” She replied with a chuckle. “Though, you may want to sit down.” And he obliged.

“What is it my love?” Markus asked, still holding her hands in his; she was shaking, and he didn't know if it was nerves or joy. He just held her hands tighter.

“I've visited with the healers, and there's nothing wrong. But, I did find out that we are expecting a pup.” She explained as she looked into his eyes.

“A pup? We are?” He asked, surprise lining his voice.

“Yes, my love.” Aela breathed, worried about his lack of enthusiasm.

Markus stared at her, still processing her words in his mind, trying to focus on what she had just said. His heart pounded in his chest, so he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled before opening his eyes once again. His mind finally slowed down long enough for the words to process properly, and a huge smile spread across his face. He jumped to his feet and wrapped Aela in his arms, placing tender kisses on her lips; joy and love spilling forth like a waterfall. Aela only laughed as Markus pulled away. He placed his palm against her stomach, eyes sparkling with joy, and Aela placed hers over his.

“Our pup...” Markus whispered, his smile still pulling at his lips.

“Yes, my love. Our pup.” Aela echoed as she leaned her head onto his shoulder.

“How far along?” Markus questioned, turning his head slightly to look at her.

“Danica guessed that I was about three months along, and I already knew when I became pregnant. Do you remember our wedding night?” She asked with a chuckle.

“How could I forget? All of the guards were on double duty the next morning to find the werewolves they heard.” He replied with a laugh, full and warm, as he held her to his body.

“Don't tell Vilkas that he was right. He told me the following week that he knew I was pregnant from that night.” Aela sighed, making to move to the chair in the room.

“Are you all right, she-wolf? Do you want to lie down?” Markus asked, watching her stagger for a moment before settling down into the chair.

“No, love, I'll be fine here.” She replied, leaning into the back of the chair.

“If you change your mind, let me know. I don't want you to overexert yourself.” Markus replied as he joined her at the table, gathering his paperwork together again.

“I won't my dear.” Aela mumbled, sleep beginning to take her over.

Markus sighed softly, waiting for a few minutes for Aela to fall asleep. He stood from his chair, moved to her side, and gathered her in his arms. Turning on his heel, he carried her into the adjoining bedroom and laid her down onto the bed, covering her with the soft quilt that was spread across it. When he was sure that she was comfortable, he made his way back out and completed his paperwork.

When he finished his final round of paperwork two hours later, Markus stood from the chair and stretched out his back, stifling the yawn that had been pushing its way through his body. He turned towards the bedroom, and found that Aela was still sleeping soundly; the poor woman must have been exhausted to still be sleeping. Markus walked into the room and gently gathered her into his arms before heading upstairs to leave. Vilkas stopped him for only a moment, questioning what was wrong, but Markus dismissed him by saying they would talk later. Vilkas nodded and opened the door for the couple before retreating back to the table to join his brother. Making his way through Whiterun, Markus quickly opened the door to Breezehome, taking great care not to disturb his sleeping wife, and made his way upstairs to their bedroom. Placing her onto the furs, he gently climbs in next to her, wraps his arm around her waist, and pulls his body as close to hers as he can. He inhaled her scent: forest saplings and temple candles, and exhaled the tension that wrestled in his veins.

With a final, gentle kiss on her cheek, he fell asleep.

\---------------------

A few hours later, Aela stirred and woke from her sleep, slowly shifting her arm to wipe the sleep from her eyes. Attempting to move, she found herself restricted, and slowly looked down to find Markus' arm draped around her waist, holding her close to him. She smiled, touching his arm with her fingers, before she gently lifted his arm in order to stand and stretch. Stomach grumbling from hunger, she made her way downstairs and began to boil some stew, when a still groggy Markus made his way down the stairwell.

“Look who's awake.” She chuckled, scooping the broth into a bowl and handing it to him.

“I could say the same for you, my love.” Markus replied with a yawn as he accepted the proffered bowl, placing a kiss upon her cheek.

The couple sat at the fire, eating and laughing together, going over baby names and finally coming to agree upon Dengen for a boy, and Eruki for a girl. Bowls emptied of their broth, the couple set them onto the table to be cleaned in the morning, and made their way back upstairs. The moons were high in the sky by now, and all they wanted was to get back into their bed; holding each other close and dreaming of the day their little one would join them.


	8. Birth

The months seemed to crawl by for Markus, who had returned to traveling and training, all in hopes of being prepared for when his child would be born. Aela had urged him to hire himself out, even though he knew she was strongly against it, but he agreed because he knew they would need the coin. And that's exactly how he had found himself ruin diving for Calcelmo in Avanchnzel, searching for enough Dwarven metal to reconstruct a full Dwarven Centurion for supposed research purposes. In Markus' opinion, the man had spent far too much time attempting to understand the lost race of the Dwemer, but gold is gold, so why not help the old man get his Dwarven metal. Checking his pack, he estimated that he'd had roughly one hundred pieces of Dwarven metal, which would hopefully be enough. The constructs, though impressively large, were surprisingly hollow. He should know; he's destroyed several during this escapade. As he made his way back to Markarth, his mind wandered to Aela. Now in her eighth month of pregnancy, he wanted to be with her as badly as his wolf wanted to hunt, and he would be more than happy to get this small quest over with, collect his pay, and be on his way back to Whiterun before the sun set.

Markarth was, to put it nicely, literal Oblivion. Markus couldn't believe that the Jarl had let the city fall into such chaos, but when a single family owns half of the city, what choice does he have? Markus shook his head as he approached Understone Keep, nodding slightly to the guards at the entrance before walking in through the double doors. Making his way through the vast remnant of a once populace Dwarven tower, Markus approached Calcelmo at his alchemy lab, scribbling something or another onto a roll of paper. Clearing his throat, Calcelmo finally peeled his gaze away from his writing and looked up, not too friendly, at Markus. As realization sparked in his eyes, Calcelmo placed paper and quill onto the desk before standing and greeting Markus. With a reciprocated greeting, Markus removed the large pack from his shoulder, and gently placed it on the ground at Calcelmo's feet. Reaching into his robe, Calcelmo produced a large coin purse, practically shoving it into Markus' hands before immediately fawning over the Dwemer metal in the pack. Without a word, Markus excused himself and left town, hopping onto his mount's back and turning immediately towards Whiterun.

The fresh air outside of Markarth did wonders for his mood, cleansing the murk and smog from his senses, and replacing it with the scent of grass and the possibility of rain. He nudged his horse onwards, picking up the pace from a walk to a trot, wanting to make time, but keep the pace comfortable for his horse. Passing from The Reach into Whiterun Hold, Markus nudged his horse into a full gallop, pressing forward towards Dragonsreach as it appeared on the horizon. After nearly two months of sleeping at inns and traversing through dungeons and ruins, he would finally be home, holding Aela in his arms once more.

At the gates, he dismounted his horse and made his way into the city, immediately heading for Breezehome and his wife. Dawn had barely broken over the city walls, and with luck, Aela would have been in bed sleeping, as she had been advised to do by Danica Pure-Spring two months back. But Markus knew his wife; she would never rest easy unless she knew that he was there, and he was safe. He sighed, but smiled, and gently opened the front door, closing it softly behind him. His ears perked up when he heard muffled movement upstairs, and using his keen sense of smell, he traced Lydia and Aela as the only people in the house. A small sigh of relief spilled from his parted lips, and he allowed his guard to come down slightly as he made his way up the staircase. Rounding the corner, his eyes locked onto Aela, shifting slightly in her sleep, and he smiled. Stepping into their room, he made a low, gentle growl in the back of his throat, and watched as Aela's eyes began to shift behind her eyelids, before slowly opening to greet the morning. When she eyed her husband, her eyes shot open completely, and she tried to shift herself up into a sitting position.

“Stay there love. I'm exhausted.” Markus whispered as he climbed into bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, face nuzzled into her neck. Aela shifted to face him.

“Are you home now? Will you be able to stay?” She asked, hand gripping his forearm. He gave her a soft smile before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Of course. I'm not missing out on anything else.” He replied, tracing small circles on the swell of her abdomen.

“You've missed out on nearly this entire pregnancy... Are you sure that you won't be called upon?”

“Aela, love, all I'm focused on now is you, and our child. Nothing is going to take me away from either of you when we are so close to meeting our young one.” Markus whispered as he wrapped his arms around Aela's waist, pulling her close to him.

“Promise me.” Aela growled, eyes shifting in the daylight that began to break through the siding of the house.

Markus responded with a low, dangerous growl in the back of his throat, asserting that he would not be called away from her again until after their baby had been born. With a small whimper, Aela melted into his embrace, and slowly fell back to sleep. Markus followed suit, and both of them slept well into the following night.

\------------------------

Aela awoke to the smell of freshly smoked Elk, and her mouth watered. Shifting herself into a sitting position, she took note of the heavy swell of her abdomen as it rested on her thighs, and with a soft sigh, she managed to pull herself upright, using the nightstand as leverage and balance. Stretching the stiffness from her lower back, Aela draped her saber cat pelt over her shoulders and made her way downstairs. Markus stood at the fire, twisting the haunch of meat over the flames, just like he did when they would patrol around Skyrim together. It was, after all, her favorite way to cook Elk. A smile crept across her face as she slowly made her way to the open chair, settling into the back of it.

“Smells delicious dear. What's the occasion?” Aela prodded, smoothing out the pelt across her thighs.

“No occasion my love. You may have missed the hunt, but there are plenty of spoils.” Markus replied with a grin, handing her the perfectly cooked Elk haunch on a plate with a baked potato, steamed carrots, and an apple dumpling on the side.

“Eat up dear. You need to keep your strength up.” Markus chided, gently kissing Aela's nose as he took a seat beside her, his own plate in his lap.

The two of them ate dinner in relative silence, with minor pauses for communication in between bites of food and sips of water. Aela finished eating and placed her plate on the small table between them, before gently folding her hands before her abdomen; brow knitted together in thought. Markus, feeling her nervous energy, turned his head towards his mate, swallowing his final bite of Elk.

“What is it love?” He asked, slowly reaching over to take her hand in his.

“I'm scared... Thirty seasons as a werewolf being hunted down by the Silver Hand, and I'm terrified of childbirth.” Aela choked out; a small, wet chuckle breaking from her throat.

“We can get through it together, Aela. I promise that I will help you however I can.” Markus replied as he stood from his chair and knelt before her. “When I said 'I do', I took an oath to be your husband, your support, and to love you and our family until I am taken from this world. You are everything to me, and our child is too, and I promise, Aela, that I will do whatever is necessary to make sure that you are both taken care of.” He explained, one hand on hers, the other on her abdomen.

“You sentimental fool.” Aela chuckled, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Anything to see you smile my love.” Markus replied before placing a soft kiss upon her lips.

Standing back on his feet, Markus gently squeezed Aela's hand then gathered their dishes, bringing them over to the washbasin that he had installed before his task from Calcelmo. While her husband was indisposed, Aela rose to her feet, stretched the stiffness from her back once more, and headed out the front door. Taking in the sweet scent of the fresh meat in the market, as well as the smell of spring on the wind, Aela could feel her wolf begging to run free. With careful practice, she pressed the spirit back and began to walk towards the market stalls.

\---------------------------------

The deep throated roar was the first sound that pierced his ears. With a jolt, Markus spun on his heel, and was horrified to see that Aela was no longer in the house. Grabbing a sword and pulling his shield from his back, Markus ran out of the front door and tuned his ears. He heard the spine tingling roar again to his left, and the shrieks of villagers to his right. Aela, caught in the middle of the market, felt the blow as she was slammed in to. She fell forwards, scraping her hands against the rough cobblestone path, while instinctively twisting her body to fall onto her side. Pain radiated into her right hip as she stifled the gasp that escaped through clenched teeth. In minutes, the pain in her hip radiated to her abdomen, and she felt the muscles contract beneath her hand. Through the haze of pain, her mind finally processed that she was beginning to go into labor, and she trembled. Pushing herself onto her hands, she was once again knocked to the ground when she felt a powerful tremor that radiated from Belathor's shop to her left. Her eyes looked into piercing gold orbs, and she watched as the vibrant green chest began to glow orange with flames. She tried to force herself up and run, but her legs refused to cooperate with her body as she stared into the eyes of death itself. Just as the dragon was about to unleash the flames from its maw, a call rang out before her.

“Aela!!” Markus; her mind could register that much. She curled forwards, cradling her abdomen, as heat wrapped around her body.

As soon as the contraction passed, she looked up to see Markus standing at her side, steam rising off of his shield. She felt the wolf spirits of Farkas and Vilkas behind her, and could see Lydia kneeling at her side.

“Lydia, get Aela to the Temple. Farkas, Vilkas and I will handle this beast.” Markus spoke, positioning his feet as he squared up against the dragon.

“Right. On your feet, Aela.” Lydia urged, taking Aela by the elbow and helping her lift herself from the ground.

As the two of them began to flee the scene, a blast of wind rushed past them, and they knew that the dragon had taken flight.

“Joor Zah Frul!” exploded through the air, and Aela risked a glance over her shoulder.

The dragon was glowing a faint purple, and struggling to flap its massive wings, finally collapsing onto the ground at the center of the market, destroying Anoriath's meat stall with it's powerful tail. Another contraction began to set in, but Aela forced her body to keep moving; keep running. The Temple appeared at the top of the hill, and Aela chanced a moment to return air to her lungs, and strength into her body, but she and Lydia were thrown down to the ground as the dragon soared above their heads, creating a gust of wind that slammed into their backs. Markus came running immediately behind the dragon, and stopped before Aela, protecting her with his shield as the dragon blew flames at their bodies. When her eyes opened, she was looking up into Markus' concerned blue ones.

“Aela...” He whispered, taking in the pain that made itself felt through her body.

“My love... I'll be fine.” She replied, looking from him back to Lydia.

The other brunette gently took Aela's arm once more and pulled her straight into the Temple, unable to look back over their shoulders.

\-------------------------

The sounds of dragon roars and shouts kept resounding throughout the building as Aela's contractions grew closer and closer together. Sweat coated her brow, and her chest heaved with each breath; the muscles in her abdomen were on fire from the contractions, but she kept trying to hold on for Markus. She wanted him to be there; needed him to be at her side. The tears had begun falling long ago, and kept falling as each contraction forced her body into convulsions. Just as her contraction passed, the door swung open, and her eyes flashed over to see Farkas stumble through the entrance. Blood seeped from his mouth, his hands covering the massive wound in his stomach as Danica's assistant lead him to a bed and began the long process of healing the deep, grievous wounds. Through the haze of pain, Aela opened her mind to their shared mental link.

“Farkas... What happened?” She asked, twisting her head to look over at her shield-brother.

“That damn scaled pigeon... He's tougher than he looks...” He replied, cringing as muscle was sewn back together through magic.

“Markus and Vilkas...” Her thoughts hummed with panic as she thought of her husband and other shield-brother.

“They can handle that damned bird. Don't worry, Aela.” Farkas retorted with a mental chuckle.

Aela once again closed her thoughts off as another, stronger contraction ripped through her body. Danica gently raised the blanket off of Aela's legs in order to check her progress. Noticing a tuft of brown hair, Danica propped Aela's legs up, bent at the knees.

“Your child is crowning. You can push now, Aela.” Danica explained as she continued to stand at the base of the bed.

“No! Not until... Markus is here...” Aela demanded before another contraction ripped across her already tired body. She threw her head back and stifled the scream that threatened to leave her throat.

“Aela... Please, don't hold him in any longer. The only end would be death for both of you.” Lydia begged, taking Aela's now bleeding hand into her own.

The she-wolf knitted her brow together as another contraction pierced her abdomen, and with what strength she could muster, she pushed. A roar echoed from outside, pained and angry, followed by the call of a shout.

“Joor Zah Frul!”

\----------------------

Markus had had enough of this dragon, and with a final call of DragonRend, brought the beast back down to the ground. Sword drawn, and with expert movement, Markus ran towards the dragon, dodged away from his angry maw, and propelled himself off of the dragon's leg onto his neck. Climbing past neck spikes while the dragon attempted to throw him, Markus finally took hold of the massive horns that adorned the scaled head. As Vilkas distracted the beast, Markus raised his sword above his head and drove the blade into the dragon's skull, resulting in a sickening crunch as steel shattered bone and pierced the soft tissue within. As the beast writhed in pain, Markus dove from the flailing body just as it began to collapse against the ground. When he stood, the dragon began to glow a faint gold, and the soul was released from the body and absorbed by Markus. Scales burned away to the skeleton beneath, and Markus retrieved his sword from the skull, sheathed it, and ran inside the Temple.

Flinging the door open, Markus stepped in and stopped when his eyes landed on Aela. In her arms, wrapped in soft furs, was a tiny, brunette infant cuddled up against her chest. Aela turned her head to look at him, and a soft smile gracing her lips before she turned back to the small babe in her arms. Markus was immediately at her side, piercing blue eyes softening upon seeing his child sleeping peacefully in Aela's arms.

“It's a boy, my love.” Aela whispered, looking back up to Markus' eyes. With another glance down at their son, she offered the babe to Markus, who gently took his newborn son in his arms.

“Dengen...” He whispered, gently placing a kiss to the newly named boy's forehead.

Aela smiled as she watched her husband cradle their son in his arms, gently rocking him, his eyes filled with amazement at the small life that they had created together. He sat down beside her, and the two of them could do nothing more than gush over their son.

Farkas, now healed of his wound, Vilkas and Lydia all stood by and watched the small family become closer as they bonded over their newest addition. Excusing themselves, the trio made their way back to Jorrvaskr to give the news to the rest of the Companions. Markus offered his finger to his squirming son, who took hold of it with vigor.

“He'll be strong when he's grown. He already is.” He commented, chuckling as Dengen began to suckle on Markus' finger.

“He must be hungry. Here, I'll take him.” Aela spoke, holding her arms out for him. Markus complied and gently placed their son in Aela's arms. In moments, Aela had gotten Dengen to latch onto her breast and feed. She gasped at the first contact, but felt near immediate relief as he began to suckle.

At the end of the day, Danica had given clearance for Aela and Dengen to go back to Breezehome. The family were now together in the master bed, Aela wrapped in Markus' arms, and Dengen resting between them.

“He's perfect, Markus.” Aela whispered, running her finger over Dengen's hair.

“Get's that from his mother.” Markus replied, kissing the top of Aela's head. She gazed up and smiled at him, returning his kiss with one of her own.

“Although this raises a whole new level of danger for us, being werewolves with a newborn.” Aela lamented, her eyes focused on their son.

“We'll manage dear. We always have.” Markus reassures her, pulling her closer to his body.

She smiles, nodding her head in agreement, before sliding down next to Dengen and cuddling him against her body. In minutes, she was fast asleep, and Markus followed soon after.


End file.
